Title: XVII
He whispered, 'Please... draw me a sheep.'
All I could do was softly weep.
I didn't mean to make a scene
But I wanted to be younger than seventeen.
I thought right back to when I was nine
When the whole of the world was only mine.
I lived my life, I loved it all;
It's strange how hard the mighty fall.
I wish I was innocent and young
Like the butterflies that play in the sun.
I can't go out or I'll shake to death
Seventeen and hooked on meth.
We all fuck up by this point in time
But wanting to die is not a crime.
It's God or Satan or just plain luck
That people my age don't give a fuck.
So go away or I'll make you bleed;
Let me sit here and smoke my weed.
I don't want life or to be clean
'Cause I don't want to be seventeen.
YOU ARE READING
// GO AWAY //
PoetrySometimes I wish people would just leave me alone. In that case, allow me to entertain you.
